Beach Boys
by Eilidh17
Summary: J/D Slash Comment Fic - Broken Stargate. Jack and Daniel alone. One sleeping bag. Written for jdjunkie's Hot-A-thon.


**Beach Boys**

"This is nice, don't you think?"

Sure it was. If you liked the sound of waves crashing on the beach, birds screeching overhead, and the pull of your skin as it slowly fried in the searing heat of a midday sun.

Suns.

Plural.

Both overhead, slightly apart, one bigger and brighter than the other, but both equally as distracting because they hung so low that Jack was starting to get claustrophobic.

"Sure," he said in a decidedly non-committal tone, because it was all he could muster. "Romantic. You, me, hand in hand strolling along the shore."

"Well, not quite."

"No. Because your hands are in your pockets and I'm wearing the shore in my pants."

"Itchy?"

"Past that."

"So, sex is...?"

"Try using your hand."

"That bad?"

"Worse."

Daniel looked to a point ahead of them, where the shoreline and the jungle collided, signaling a curve in the terrain. He and Jack had walked the perimeter of the island several times, trying to orient themselves with the location of the Stargate. The broken Stargate. In every way he could imagine, their situation bordered on cliché. They were stuck on a desert island, no way off, no long-term supplies, no hope of rescue in the immediate future. So, not lost but not exactly found.

"We should make camp," he suggested in a serious tone, hoping to distract Jack from his growing discomfort. "Within sight of the gate but not too close to the shore."

"Mr. Obvious."

"I'm not the one who decided to test the waters in his BDU's."

"You say that like I had a choice. And what was with the whole flying out the 'gate thing?"

"I have no idea." Which he didn't. As far as he understood the mechanics of the Stargate, one entered and exited at the same velocity. Not so much this time.

"More to the point," Jack groused, stopping to shake more sand out of his still damp pants, "who the hell puts a 'gate a few feet from the water?"

"Soil erosion."

"Don't you start."

"Only reason I can come up with. The ocean is slowly eroding away the shoreline. In a few years the 'gate will probably be underwater."

"Great!"

"We won't be here that long."

"You know that for a fact?"

"No, but do you really think Sam and Teal'c will just give up on us? All they need is a ship."

"Allies with a ship who are willing to share." Jack looked towards the ocean and then back to the jungle. "How long?"

"Before they come get us?"

"Yeah. A week? Month?"

"With the Tok'ra off the grid at the moment? No forwarding address?"

"Don't call us, we'll call you?"

"Could be months if not more."

"Sweet!"

"So, sex is now...?"

"Back on the agenda once I've scraped the sand outta my-"

"Need a hand?"

"You offering?"

"No. Not really."

"Traitor."

~oOo~

"What?"

"Nothing," Daniel mused, with a smile that bordered on lecherous. "Just thinking how Tarzan you look right now."

"Yeah, well, stop it."

"Stop what?"

"That!" Jack waggled a finger in the direction of Daniel's eyes. "You know what I mean. Don't."

"Staring?"

"Is that what you call it?"

"You don't?"

"Pervert."

The suns were both dipping below the horizon, bathing the planet in an early kind of purple twilight, while a string of moons drifted lazily across the slowly darkening sky. The tide was up, the temperature was falling, and Jack had ditched his still soggy BDUs in preference to using his spare t-shirt as a loincloth.

"You do realize that if I'm Tarzan..."

"Oh, no." Daniel looked up from the MRE he was stabbing with a fork, and shook his head slowly. "No way. I am not going to play Jane just to appease your Alpha tendencies."

"Don't want to trade your uniform for something a little more off the shoulder?"

"Nope."

"Maybe something in a nice leopard print?"

"Jack!"

"I could beat my chest. Set the mood."

"Why don't you find a vine and go swing?"

"Me Jack, you Daniel?"

"Not listening."

Jack finished spreading his pants across a rock and then sat down next to Daniel, pinching the MRE packet out of his hands and sniffing the contents. "Last time I checked, the quartermaster actually offered up a menu of choices."

"And I chose."

"Macaroni and cheese? After all these years that's all you could come up with?"

"There's a lot to be said for knowing your enemy, Jack."

"So, if we get attacked you can throw your food at them?"

"No. More like having developed a resistance to the side-effects of certain MRE dinners."

"Ah." Jack handed back the packet and plucked the second one from where it rested between Daniel's feet. He studied the scrawl on the side and feigned disappointment. "Vegetarian surprise?"

"Given that your pack is on the ocean floor somewhere, it was either that or desiccated meatloaf."

"Which would have been preferable!"

"Saving it."

"For?"

"Adhesive."

"Should I ask?"

"Sam says if you add in some salt and water it makes for a passable glue."

Jack was dumbfounded. "And she knows this how exactly?"

"Remember that mission to 324 last year? Leaky boat, nothing to bail out with?"

"Well... yeah."

"We didn't sink."

"I wondered about that."

"Well, wonder no more."

"My meatloaf?"

"Telling you the local wildlife stole your lunch was easier than admitting to it."

~oOo~

"One sleeping bag."

"Yours is-"

"Yeah, yeah... bottom of the ocean." Jack slid the zipper down and opened up the bag, admiring the space they had to share. "Cozy."

"You fart and you can go sleep on the beach by yourself."

"I do not fart, Daniel."

"Not by your definition of the word. Teal'c would beg to differ, and Sam referenced it in her last mission report as an atmospheric phenomena with olfactory ramifications. Her exact words."

"She reported it?"

"Had to. The quartermaster detected a strange smell coming from her pack and notified Janet."

"And?"

"Well, she wasn't about to put it down to you farting like a trooper in your sleep. Besides, its standard operating procedure for the quartermaster to report any suspicious or unexplained hitchhikers in any post mission equipment to the CMO."

"That's the last time I share a tent with Carter."

"For which she'll be extremely grateful."

Daniel toed off his boots and sat them on top of a rock. Their makeshift shelter would have to do until morning, when they could use the full day to build something more permanent. In the meantime, there was one sleeping bag and a randy colonel to deal with.

"Shove over," he said, watching as Jack slid into the bag, shaking the sand off his feet before tucking them in. It wasn't especially cold, but the night air did have a slight nip to it.

"You know how much you like to spoon?" Jack held the flap of the bag open to show Daniel exactly how much space was left. "Well, they didn't exactly made these things for two."

"Feel free to go diving for yours."

"Bastard."

"Bite me." Which was exactly what Jack did the moment Daniel spooned him and drove his butt into Jack's groin.

"You happy now?"

"That I've marked you?" Jack chuckled into Daniel's hair and started a slow dry humping motion he knew would drive him crazy.

"Jack."

"Problem?"

"Sex."

"Now?"

"On the beach."

"I thought the bar was closed?"

"Funny. But if you don't stop what you're doing then we're going to have to take this somewhere else."

"Here feels good."

"Here is about seven feet by three."

"And this worries you, because?"

"We've only got one sleeping bag, and when you come..."

"And then you come."

"It's gonna get messy."

"So? Sex on the beach?"

Daniel started to ease the flap of the sleeping bag back. "First one there gets to top."

"No fair. I'm stuck behind!"

"Growl!"

"I love it when you go all Alpha on me."

The end


End file.
